Thrones High: A Game of Thrones Au
by iamsmallandcontaineverything
Summary: A Game of Thrones AU, where the Stark kids among others are in high school. Pairings include Arya/Gendry, Jaime/Brienne and Sansa/Sandor. None of these wonderful characters are mine, I just enjoy writing with them.
1. Chapter 1

**Catelyn**

'You're going to miss your bus.' Catelyn called. From the kitchen window, she saw the school bus slide into view and stop against the pavement in front of the Stark house. The day was bright already, and the sun reflected off the bus windows.

Arya's voice drifted in from the living room. 'I'm not taking the bus.'

'Yes you are, girl. Sansa! The bus is here!'

There was a scrambling sound in the hallway as her eldest daughter picked her way through the family's six dogs and stepped into the kitchen without letting any of them in with her. She wore a knee length blue dress and yellow sneakers, every inch dressed for the bright sunshine. Her long auburn hair, so much like Catelyn's own, swung gently down her back.

'Aren't you going to take them for a walk?' she asked, giving her mother a kiss before taking her schoolbag off the kitchen table.

'Robb said he'll do it before he goes to work. Now go on, you'll be late.'

'OK. Have a good day!' Sansa pulled the back door open and left the house. Catelyn watched her trot happily around the house, through the front garden and out to the bus, and sighed.

'_Arya!_ Last chance!'

'Gendry's bringing me!'

'I'll tell your father!'

'Dad knows!'

'What?'

There was a hiss from outside as the bus doors closed. Catelyn watched stonily as it drove smoothly away down the street. She turned towards the hallway door, prepared to give her daughter a piece of her mind when the puppy frenzy began again, and the door opened. Catelyn's jaw dropped.

'What have you done to your _hair?'_ she muttered.

'Don't you like it?' Arya grinned, and ran one hand through the red side of her sleek shoulder-length hair. The right half remained dark, although Catelyn could swear it was a shade blacker than she was used to seeing. 'Sansa liked it.'

'Did she now,' Catelyn breathed. 'I don't know which is more surprising.'

'Me neither,' Arya said. 'Mother, calm down. Have a cup of coffee. It's only hair, it'll grow out.'

Catelyn did sit down, though she would never admit that the sudden appearance of Arya's fiery red locks had caused it.

'So,' she said. 'This new look. Will Gendry appreciate it?'

Arya shrugged. 'Maybe. I don't know if he likes red or not.'

'You mean you didn't do it to grab his attention?'

Arya glanced at her mother scornfully. 'When have I ever done anything for a boy's attention? Especially the Bull's. I did it because I thought the colour was _bitchin'_.'

'Arya Stark!'

'Sorry.' Arya said, deigning to appear contrite. 'I thought that the colour would look lovely placed upon my shining tresses.'

'Your shining tresses were lovely the colour they were,' Catelyn grumbled. 'And what will your father say?'

'Will my father notice?'

'He's not that bad.'

'At least you get to see him. You don't have a bedtime.'

'And when was the last time you ever obeyed your bedtime?'

'I obey bedtime.' Arya murmured something under her breath. To Catelyn, it sounded suspiciously like '_my _bedtime'.

'Gendry had better not be late,' she said. 'Or I'll drive you there myself and honk the horn as we arrive. Maybe I'll get back into my pyjamas just in case I have to walk you into school.'

'Mum!' To Catelyn's amusement, real fear had flashed into her daughter's eyes, only to be replaced by relief as she heard a rumbling engine outside.

'He's here,' she said. 'I just have to get my bag.'

Catelyn stood up when her daughter left the room, and paced over to the window that overlooked the front garden. Her face tensed in a frown when she saw what Gendry was driving _this_ time; a battered old Nova, at least twenty years old, that was painted – a smile flickered onto her face – red. The driver himself was stepping quickly out of the car and hurrying up the path to the front door. Catelyn barely caught a glimpse of Gendry before she heard his knock on the door. Now was her chance. She moved out into the hallway, taking care not to trample on the dogs. There was a small vestibule before the front door, separated from the main hallway by a light mesh door. Catelyn placed herself in this vestibule, closing the mesh door and keeping the dogs cordoned in the hallway. As she opened the front door, she changed her face to something much more unwelcoming. It was the same face she always remembered Ned's mother wearing when they met.

'Gendry.' she said coldly. 'It's very early to be knocking for my daughter.'

'Good morning, Mrs Stark,' Gendry mumbled. The boy was tall for his age, hitting nearly six foot and only barely seventeen. Catelyn, not a tall lady, felt her neck ache just looking at him yet managed to maintain her imperious gaze. The three-step difference between house and street level helped. Gendry stuffed his hands into his pockets and tried to look her in the eye. He failed. Casting his eyes in the space around Catelyn, he asked, 'Is Arya in?'

'Yes.'

'Oh,' He coughed. 'Um, can I – can I'

'Can you what?'

'It's just, I'm giving her a lift to school, Mrs Stark.'

'Oh, are you?'

'_Mum_!'

Catelyn pursed her mouth, and stepped to one side. Arya hopped nimbly down the last few stairs, and bent to quickly say goodbye to the dogs. Her mother and Gendry watched as she cupped each puppy's head in her hands and growled lightly at it, before scratching the mother behind the ears and stepping away.

'You're half a dog yourself,' Gendry said. Catelyn's eyes flashed in his direction and he cringed, but Arya laughed.

'At least I'm not a complete mule,' she said. She slid into the vestibule and hugged Catelyn .

'Bye, mum.'

'Bye, love. Have a good day.'

They detached from each other and Arya left the house, walking quickly ahead of Gendry towards the car.

'Bye, Mrs Stark.' He called over his shoulder.

'Goodbye Gendry.'

Catelyn watched them walk down the path. Gendry had caught up to her daughter. He said something to her, and she shouldered him to one side affectionately, her reply lost to Catelyn. He laughed, head thrown back, and pushed one arm out like a piston to send her daughter reeling sideways. She careered across one side of the lawn, nearly losing her balance, and Gendry paused. He cast a quick glance back to the house, to Catelyn watching from the porch, and an expression of sheer panic crossed his face.

Unfortunately in doing so he took his eyes from Arya. Her equilibrium restored, she seized the opportunity and flung herself across the short space between them to tackle her friend around the waist, sending both of them flying across the path and onto the grass. Catelyn rolled her eyes but could not stop her smile as she watched Arya grapple with the boy who was twice her size, and felt a faint twinge of pride when Arya fought her way on top of Gendry. He lay stomach down on the ground, and was shouting 'You're the queen!' as she twisted his arm behind his back. Arya let go and hopped up. Dusting her hands, she waited for Gendry to get up before walking with him towards his car. Their voices drifted back to Catelyn, animated noises debating one of their hobbies or interests. As they got into the car, Catelyn shut the front door and went back into the house. The cacophony of whining and barking resumed, and she blew out a frustrated huff.

'_Robb!'_


	2. Chapter 2

**Arya**

_He hasn't noticed_._ Typical boy._ But then, they hadn't had much of a chance to talk since she left the house, bar the exchange that led to the scuffle on her front lawn:

'I don't think your mum likes me, Arry,' he had said.

'If you're going to rock up on my doorstep at eight in the morning she'll think you're trying to court me,' she replied, knocking him lightly with her shoulder.

He had laughed at this, a loud, sincere laugh that had annoyed her more than his sudden shove. As she grappled with him on the front lawn, she puzzled at the idea that she was somehow a lesser prospect for 'courting' than Sansa. Why would a man want a girl who was afraid to fight? She just didn't get it.

'Any chance of a quick rip to the beach before school?' she asked when they were in the car.

Gendry raised an eyebrow in her direction.

'Ha,' he said. 'There's no way I'm letting word get back to your mum that you were late on the day I picked you up. Then it'll be the end of it. Do you want to sit with your sister on the bus?' He pulled his seat belt on, and motioned for her to do the same.

'With her, and Prince Joffrey?' Arya tented her fingers beneath her chin and fluttered her eyelashes. 'No thank you.' She reached for her own belt.

'Well then. I have to pick up Hot Pie, and maybe we'll hit McDonalds on the way.' Satisfied that they were both strapped in, Gendry started the car. The Nova's engine made a steady, comforting rumble, and they pulled away from the kerb.

'My god, McDonalds at this hour?' Arya's gorge rose just a little at the thought of eating a cheeseburger and fries so early in the morning.

'You know what he likes.'

She reached for the radio and flicked it on, some static fizzing over a guitar solo. Her hands ran over the dashboard and felt the hum running through it.

'God, I love this car,' she sighed. 'Can I have it if you die?'

'If you cough up for it.' he said. 'I've still got ten payments to make.'

'Deal.'

'Can you even drive yet?'

'It can't be that hard if you do it.'

They stopped at a red light, and Gendry stuck out his tongue at her.

'Changed your mind about graduation yet?' she asked.

'Nope. It's not happening,' he said. 'I even bought the new Guitar Hero, so our plans for the evening are sorted.'

'Didn't I tell you Ned Dayne asked me to go with him?'

The lights changed and Gendry was quiet as he concentrated on the move, changing gears smoothly and gazing steadily at the cars in front. When the Nova had reached equilibrium, he coughed.

'Really?' he asked. 'What did you say?'

'I said yes,' she said. 'And then I called Sansa up to help me pick a dress and do my hair and paint my nails and I said no, idiot!'

Gendry snorted. 'OK, little snowflake. Well done.'

'Oh please, that was blatant relief I saw cross your face. You were worried you'd be stuck with Hot Pie all night, with no-one to buffer his chat.'

He smiled. 'Yeah, sure.'

They drove on in silence for a while, breaking it only to sing along to some AC/DC on the radio. When they pulled up to Hot Pie's house, Gendry laid on the horn for a few seconds. As the blaring sound faded from Arya's eardrums and Hot Pie's front door opened, Gendry turned to her.

'Like the hair.' he said.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sansa**

She had been eager for the bus to arrive, so when their mother had called them Sansa had been on her feet and at the living-room door before Arya started shouting her refusal.

'Stop stroking your hair, it'll make it all greasy,' she hissed at her sister before slipping through the door. 'God forbid you look clean for once.'

She tiptoed out into the hallway, taking care not to trample on any dogs as she made her way into the kitchen. Reaching down briefly she rubbed each little puppy head, then entered the kitchen. Her mum was staring at the bus outside but turned to face her when she came in.

'Aren't you going to take them for a walk?' Sansa asked, moving over to Catelyn and pecking her affectionately on the cheek before taking her bag from the table. Her mother smiled.

'Robb said he'll do it before he goes to work. Now go on, you'll be late.'

'OK,' Sansa smiled. 'Have a good day!'

She picked up her schoolbag and headed for the door. As she stepped out into the garden a small breeze made her dress ripple around her knees. She patted the hem down with her left hand, right hand making sure the schoolbag was secure over her shoulder. It was a beautiful day. The sun was bright and its warmth hinted at its later strength. Her father had said something about a hot summer, which was followed by his usual dour assurance that cold winters were preceded by hot summers. Sansa had laughed at this. Why worry about weather that was so far away?

She clicked the door closed behind her, then jogged over to the bus. The driver usually got impatient if he were kept waiting too long. Beyond the sun's reflection in the bus window Sansa saw the back of her crush's blonde head, turning slowly to face outwards. Quickly, she switched her gaze to her friend Jeyne sitting in the next seat, and waved. She put on her brightest, most dazzling smile, hoping that Joffrey would see. Jeyne waved back, and Sansa stepped on board the bus.

'Sorry I'm late, Mr Payne,' she said. 'My brother and sister aren't coming today.'

The driver made a wordless sound, somewhere between a rattle and a harrumph, and pulled the door lever. As it creaked shut Sansa made her way down the aisle towards her friend. She said hello to those she knew, and let her eyes wander over the other students before halting beside her seat. She found herself looking for a fraction of a second longer at Sandor Clegane, the older boy with burn scars on his face. He was sitting on his own opposite her own seat, his scarred left cheek facing the window. His eyes flickered up to meet hers angrily. Sansa blanched, ashamed that she had been staring. The bus jerked away from the kerb and roared away. She swung down into her seat beside Jeyne.

'Hey,' Jeyne said. 'Where's your adorable little brother?'

'His class had a 'work with parents' day, so he's at the office with Dad.'

'And Arya?'

'She's coming in, but she's getting a lift with her friend Gendry.' Sansa said.

'Ooh,' Jeyne said. 'He's in my AP Maths class. Your sister's a clever girl. He's so hot.'

'Oh please,' Sansa said. 'Dark hair? I don't think so. Blonde hair is way nicer.'

She pitched this comment slightly louder than normal, intending for it to be received by someone other than Jeyne. As hoped, Joffrey took the bait.

'Thank you Sansa,' he said, pulling himself up so that his face appeared above the back of Jeyne's seat. Sansa's stomach lurched just a little at the sight of his handsome face, and the fact that he was talking to her. Jeyne, mostly unseen by Joffrey, made an excited face and gently prodded Sansa's leg. Sansa ignored this.

'So Joff,' she said. 'You going to the graduation dance?'

He smirked. 'Maybe. Haven't really found anyone to go with yet. Are you going?'

'Oh,' she said, casting her eyes downwards in mock-embarrassment. 'I'm not in the right year. I'd have to be asked by someone who's graduating.'

Joffrey looked at her intently for a few seconds. _His eyes are so blue_, Sansa thought.

'Good to know,' he said, then lowered himself back into his seat. Seconds later, he and his friend Boros began talking loudly about last night's football game, and Sansa and Jeyne shared a wide-eyed, trembling glance.

'Oh my _god_.' Jeyne mouthed.

'_I know_.' Sansa felt a wide grin pull at her face, but she dampened it quickly. It wouldn't do, to let Joffrey know how much she fancied him.

Jeyne covered her mouth with her hand to conceal her own smile, and turned towards the window. Sansa faced the seat in front, and in doing so caught a glimpse of Sandor out of the corner of her eye. _Just a quick look_, she thought. _Pretend you're looking at the seat behind him_. She craned her neck to take a look at the seats behind, and let her eyes pass over him on the way back.

Sandor Clegane was a tall, sturdily built teenager, in the same year as Joffrey. His dark hair grew to his collar, the better to cover his scars, and he was wearing some rock band t-shirt with faded, ripped jeans. His face was still turned towards the window, but she could see the unscarred side twitching. Sansa didn't know whether it was a tic or some kind of suppressed laugh. She often found herself glancing his way. He was part of her sister's little gang, but she never saw him at their house the way she did Gendry or Hot Pie. From the gossip she heard, he didn't have a very nice home life. His older brother was in a juvenile delinquent facility, and there were rumours that when they were kids they'd set a car on fire together, and that's how Sandor got burned. Sansa doubted it. Sandor was quiet, and the simmering look in his eyes was often half anger, half hate, but he didn't give off the same crazy vibes as Gregor Clegane had. It sometimes crossed her mind to talk to Sandor at school, or just to smile at him in the corridor, but she could never summon the nerve.

As if he felt her gaze, Sandor swivelled his head around and locked his eyes onto hers. A lightning-fast sneer crossed his face, and he turned his upper body towards her. Still staring at her, not saying a thing, he moved his head slightly off-side so that she could get a clear view of his burns. His upper lip curled back in derision. Sansa's mouth fell open slightly. At this, the corner of Sandor's mouth twitched. Sansa closed her mouth. The burns were dreadful. Not having a tough disposition, she felt tears prickling the backs of her eyes. She was ashamed, and confused, and felt sorry for him, but couldn't look away.

'Oh, look at this!' Joffrey called. 'Sansa and Sandor are eye-fucking!'

That did it. Sansa snapped her head back to face the front of the bus, face burning hot with embarrassment. They were nearly at school, and she felt the bus decelerate minutely. _Thank God_.

'Fuck you, Lannister,' She heard Sandor growl. She stole another glance at him. _Haven't you looked enough? _Sandor's eyes had gone to Joffrey but the second Sansa turned her eyes back he glared straight at her. His eyes were filled with hate, and she felt her heart sink at inspiring such an emotion in anyone. Her mouth opened again, to apologise, to calm them both down, to say something, to say _anything_, but Joffrey got there first.

'I don't think it's me you want to fuck though, is it?'

Sansa's stomach churned at the horrible words coming out of her lovely Joffrey's mouth. The fact that they were said in reference to her only made things worse. Her eyes scrunched close.

'Maybe you want to ask her to the graduation dance? How about it, Sansa?' He laughed. To Sansa's immense shame, Joffrey was addressing her now. She opened her eyes, and turned her head to look at him. A smile was dancing across his face, and his bright blue eyes mocked her. 'I think he'll want to pop your cherry in some side alley after the dance.'

Sansa's jaw clenched, and for an instant she felt a flash of hate towards him. _He's being territorial_, she told herself. _Just like the pups and their dinner_. Arya would growl she was no-one's territory but her own, but Sansa knew boys could be silly like that.

'Don't be rude, Joffrey.' She whispered. She always tried to remember her manners.

The bus slowed, and finally parked beside the school's front gate. People didn't want to get up, they were so transfixed by the drama unfolding before them. Joffrey exclaimed at her response.

'Rude? Talking about the freak going to a dance or talking about your cherry?'

There was a thud to her left, and Sansa whirled around. Sandor had stood up and was towering over her, stooping slightly under the bus's low roof. His eyes were filled with rage, and she saw him clench one hand tight. He stretched across her to put his disfigured face less than twenty inches from Joffrey's.

'Shut your mouth,' he said. 'or I'll shut it for you.'

Joffrey recoiled, a grimace of fright unfurling across his face. Even Boros, who was both bigger and stronger than his friend, was loath to do anything but sit still and avoid Sandor's eyes. At their reaction a deep, grating laugh escaped from Sandor's mouth. He turned and walked off the bus. Everyone watched him leave, then stood up themselves. Sansa exhaled with relief.

'Maybe I'd better do this to keep you safe from him,' Joffrey said. His air of swagger had returned. 'Sansa, would you like to come to the graduation dance with me?'

Sansa's stomach lurched again, though this time she was unsure whether it was from anxiety or disdain. _You're just freaking out after that little episode. _She told herself. _You still want to go with him._

'Thank you Joffrey,' she said. 'I'd love to.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Arya**

Hot Pie was talking about food. Arya wasn't listening, but it was usually safe to bet he was talking about food. She was lying on the grass, reading a book on urban legends. Students were milling around the pavilion, enticed outside by the warm sunshine. Here and there she spotted teachers eating their lunch, keeping a lazy eye on all the young people. The three of them were sitting in the shade of a huge oak tree, Hot Pie in the middle and Arya on his left.

'...and you have to be really careful with how you mix it. If you get water in it, it's game over.'

'Really.' Gendry lay on his back on the other side of Hot Pie, eyes closed and arms folded behind his head. 'Please tell me more.'

'Someone once found a mouse in a tin of beans.' Arya told them.

'Don't tell me more.'

'And then there was this time a couple were sharing a chicken bucket in KFC and found a deep-fried rat.'

'Arya, please,' Gendry said. 'Canteen food isn't easy to keep down under normal circumstances.'

'I can read you one about murders.'

'No.'

'Speaking of murders,' Hot Pie said, opening a chocolate bar, 'Sandor's in detention for nearly killing Joffrey Lannister.'

'Only nearly?' Arya frowned. 'Shame.'

'Isn't he your future brother-in-law?' Gendry smiled.

Arya ignored him. While Sansa was, for the most part, bearable, her attraction to Joffrey was Arya's cut-off point. Even in her wildest dreams she could not understand it. He was a pompous, bullying little shit who was only in school because his mother was a teacher and gave him As in everything. _If he ever crosses me_, Arya thought, _even his mother won't be enough to protect him_. She closed her book, and sat up.

'What happened?'

'Apparently Sandor made a pass at Sansa, and Joffrey intervened. Then Sandor grabbed him by the throat and said he'd do whatever he wanted. Then he punched Boros in the face and walked off.'

'Let's translate that into truth, shall we?' Gendry said. He sat up halfway, rubbed his eyes and returned to his reclined position.

'Joffrey was being a wanker,' Hot Pie mumbled around his chocolate.

'While making a pass at my sister,' Arya added.

'And Sandor told him to stop.' Gendry finished. 'As for Boros... his face is too fucked up to disprove anything.'

'Oh, here we go,' Hot Pie said. 'He's out.'

Arya looked across to the school. Sandor had emerged from its shadows and was walking quickly into the middle of the open space. When he reached the sunlight, he paused and took a moment to luxuriate in its warmth. He began looking around, and Hot Pie raised his hand.

'Sandor! _Sandor_!'

Arya grinned. She always said it was all the talking that made Hot Pie's shouting so powerful. The people in the direct vicinity were looking around, startled by the sudden noise.

Sandor heard him. His long, powerful legs carried him smoothly across to where his friends were sitting. He sat down beside Gendry.

'Did you have to shout so fucking loud?' he snarled at Hot Pie.

'Yes,' Hot Pie replied calmly. He rummaged in his bag for a few seconds, and pulled out a sandwich wrapped in clingfilm. Sandor held his hand out, only for the sandwich to be held away from him.

'The magic word?'

'Gimme the fu-' he sighed, and gave up. 'Please.'

'What happened with you and my sister?' Arya asked as Sandor ripped the clingfilm open. He ripped part of the sandwich off, and stuffed it in his mouth. His detention had cost him most of his lunch break.

'Nothing,' he said. 'She was staring at me. I gave her a good look,' he pointed at his ruined face 'and Joffrey started shouting about how I wanted to pop her cherry. I just told him to shut up, and got detention from his bitch of a mother.' He swallowed a piece of sandwich. 'The little twat.'

Arya nodded. Sounded about right. She put her book into her bag.

'It was very good of you,' Gendry said, 'to defend Sansa's honour like that.'

'Fuck honour,' Sandor growled. He stared down at his sandwich, and focused on tearing off another piece. 'I did it because Joffrey's an annoying little prick.'

Gendry did not reply. After a few seconds Sandor looked at Arya. She could feel the anger coming off him in waves.

'What does your sister see in him anyway?'

Arya shrugged.

'You should have heard how he talked to her. Talking about popping her cherry...' he muttered, nearly beyond the range of hearing, 'I should have punched his fucking head off. Or she should've.'

He gulped down the remains of the sandwich. Gendry sat up, and met Arya's eyes. She raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly, and he covered a smile with his hand. His dark blue eyes twinkled at her, and Arya felt a strange flutter in her chest.

_You've got to be kidding me_.

His hand fell from his face, and as he placed both hands palms-down on the ground Arya could see the muscles flex under his t-shirt. Her eyes roamed over his messy black hair, across the powerful shoulders and down his legs. _He's actually not bad_, she thought. As if he heard her his gaze snapped up to hers, and he grinned. _Oh no_.  
The bell rang, signalling five minutes until class would resume. She hopped up almost immediately, wanting to get away, to diagnose – _and destroy –_ this weird jittery feeling elsewhere.

'See you guys later,' she said, hauling her bag up onto her shoulder. Sandor grunted.

'Bye Arya,' said Hot Pie.

'Wait,' Gendry said. He too jumped up, and stretched. 'I'll come with you.'

'I want to go on my own.' She told him. He stared at her, puzzled and slightly hurt. She felt another sensation in her chest, more of a swoop this time, that was followed by a sharp anger. Before Gendry could lift his bag up, she turned and stomped away towards the school.

_No. _She thought. _No! This isn't fair_. _It's _disgusting_, is what it is_. _He's my friend_.

'Arya! Arya!' Someone was calling her. Not Gendry.

'What?' she snapped.

'Um,' It was Ned Dayne. He trotted after her, and caught up. 'Where are you going?'

'Science lab,' she replied. 'Pycelle said something about dissections for this lesson.'

'He lied,' he said. 'They do that to stop people bunking off. Even we haven't done dissections yet.'

With that, Arya slowed her pace. She turned her head to look at Ned. He was two years older than her, and handsome in his own way. _He wouldn't be bad to have a crush on_. Sansa and her mother were often disappointed at her own lack of affection for the opposite sex. They never came right out and said it, but Arya knew. And to have a crush on Gendry, of all people! Ned wasn't her friend, it wouldn't be complicated. And he had asked her to the graduation dance, meaning he must have some interest in her beyond sitting around playing video games. She could switch her crush to him, and keep Gendry as her friend without everything getting weird.

'I like your hair,' he said. 'Red suits you. And the half-side thing looks really good.'

Arya went to run her hand over her hair, but Sansa's warning from earlier stopped her. Instead, she smiled at Ned.

'Thanks.'

He had to stop at his locker on the way to class, so Arya paused beside him. She ran her eyes over him, over his ashy blonde hair and the eyes that were too light a blue to be compared to Gendry's.

_He's not as tall as Gendry, either_. _And he probably isn't as much fun_.

'Have you asked anyone else to the dance yet?' she blurted out.

'Not yet,' Ned said. 'Why, have you changed your mind?'

'Maybe.' Arya said. With this, Ned turned to her, eyes widening with pleasant surprise.

'Really?' he smiled.

_It's a lovely smile_, Arya thought. _And I bet he's not as boring as he makes out_. _This shouldn't be a problem_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Jaime**

'Have you cast your vote for the elections yet?'

Jaime sighed, and laid his magazine down. Cersei was standing in front of him, arms crossed and an expression of deep consternation on her face. He smiled.

'No, sweet sister. I have not.'

The same flicker of annoyance crossed over her features, as it always did when he called her his sister.

'I told you you don't have to call me that in here.'

'But you insisted. Hey, in_sis_ted. Get it?'

Cersei emitted a snarling huff and walked away. Jaime picked up his magazine again.

'Have you -'

'No,' he said loudly. 'And I won't be voting for you anyway.'

'What?'

He looked up again. This time it wasn't his sister, or Stannis, or Beric, or any of the candidates for the next school principal. It was Brienne. She formed a neat contrast to Cersei, and a welcome change for Jaime. She was tall, nearly taller than he was, with short blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Unlike Cersei, she wore no fancy clothes, no make-up; as the female coach she had no use for such things. A tracksuit was her default uniform. Jaime's grin stretched practically from ear to ear.

'I'm sorry, my beautiful colleague,' he slapped his magazine on the table and bounced up. 'I assumed you were my sweet sister, asking if I had voted.' He put a hand out and grasped her shoulder lightly. 'What was your query?'

Brienne looked down at his hand as though it were a sudden growth on her skin. Her eyes then swung up to meet his own and he was struck, though not for the first time, at how wonderfully rich their colour was. Jaime let go of her shoulder. His grin faded a little, to be replaced by something slightly more genuine. He could see a faint blush appear on her cheeks. She lowered her eyes.

'Do you have the equipment room key?' she muttered.

'Yes, and I need the ball bag for next class. I'll come with you.'

As they walked to the door together, the bell rang. Jaime could feel Cersei watching them from her corner of the room. She was being talked at by Stannis, who was presumably trying to lecture her on her teaching methods. This was all part of his masterplan to gain the principalship.

'So who are you going to vote for?' asked Brienne.

'You know, I don't know,' Jaime said. 'I'm in two minds whether to vote for Cersei or not. Who are you leaning towards?' They entered the hallway and were surrounded by a sudden tide of students. Instinctively, they drew closer together, so close their elbows were touching.

'Apart from me.' he added.

'That's not – It's the students, I can't help - ' she stammered.

'I know Brie, I know.' he said. 'It was a joke. You'd think being my co-worker for so long would acclimatise you to me and my many hilarious quips.'

'It's difficult to acclimatise to you.'

Her last words were barely above a whisper, and Jaime pretended not to have heard it. He was aware that Brienne found him annoying, and while he would hope calling her on her remark would put a bit of backbone into the woman, it would more likely push her further into her shell.

'So who are you voting for?'

'I'm not sure. Probably Stannis.' she shrugged.

'Not my dear sister?' he smiled.

She shook her head.

'Fair enough.'

'Why don't you run for it?' she said. 'You're popular, and most people like you.'

'Ugh, and have to put up with all that paperwork?' he shuddered. 'I do P.E. because my hand is no longer fit for doing copious amounts of writing. Or even typing, at this stage. Any reports I, or at least my TA, have to fill in are minimal. I can catch a ball, and I can kick one. That's all I need.'

'Your hand,' she said. 'What happened to it?'

'Broke it, then damaged it even more trying to move it when it wasn't ready to be moved. Just means it gets tired quicker than the other, is all. It's all good, though – I've learned to masturbate with my left.'

He wanted to kick himself the second the words left his mouth. Brienne blushed a deeper shade of pink – _Dear God, was a deeper shade possible?_ – and fixed her eyes firmly on the ground.

'There's no need to be so vulgar,' she chided. Jaime almost didn't hear her.

'I apologise deeply, Sister Brienne.' he said.

'Or sarcastic.' she added. 'There's no reason to be so snippy with me. I'm not your sister.'

_Neither's the lioness stalking around the staff room_, Jaime thought. He was amazed at the sudden response from Brienne. Usually when he came out with stuff like this, her primary tactic was to ignore his bullshit.

They reached the supply room, and he dug the set of keys out of his trouser pocket. He unlocked the door and turned to her.

'You're right,' he said. 'I don't treat you as well as I should and for that, I apologise.'

Brienne looked at him intently for a few seconds, before deciding that he was genuine.

'Thanks, Jaime.' she said.

She slid past him and opened the door. After exhaling a snort of disgust at the messiness of the cupboard she tiptoed inside and began to rifle through the shelves.

'Can you pass me the ball bag, Brie?' Jaime asked. 'It's under the shelf on your left.'

She bent and grabbed the net bag that was filled with the school's footballs. With a smooth, fluid motion she tossed the bag to Jaime.

_May God forgive me_, Jaime smiled to himself.

'Treat my balls gently Brienne, please!' he yelled, before grabbing the bag and escaping down the hallway. There were very few students in the hallway at this time, but the few stragglers that were at their lockers turned and giggled at his outburst.

Jaime would even swear he heard Brienne chuckling.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sansa**

'Come on, girls! Faster!'

Sansa groaned. She hated P.E.. She hated running, she hated relays and most of all she hated Miss Tarth. That woman was all leg, built for running. Sansa was built to sit around and read. Beside the running track, some senior boys were playing football for Mr Lannister. Half the girls were watching them play, but she felt they were all screaming at her.

'Sansa, you're nearly there!'

Sansa pulled a huge breath into her lungs and urged her legs to move faster. Her hand was tight and sweating around the baton. In the not-near-enough distance Jeyne was waiting to take it, and so far they would come second unless someone overtook Sansa at the last minu-

'Come on, Margaery!' she heard someone scream.

_Crap_, she thought. Margaery Tyrell was the best runner in their class, and Sansa had flown from her marker the second the baton had slipped into her hand, so she would stand a fighting chance. Now her state of grace was over. She heard the girls cheering and a brief, desperate pant escaped her mouth. She knew she was slower than Margaery, but by god she'd give her a fight.

_In-one-two-out-three-in-one-two-out-three_

Over the shouts of the girls she heard Margaery's feet pounding the asphalt close behind her. The girl ran like a professional, head down and long legs stretching easily. Sansa started to flag. Jeyne was now less than 30 metres away and Sansa was closing in rapidly, but even this small distance seemed too far.

_Come on, Sansa. Come o-_

_BLAM_

Something hard struck the side of her head. Sansa fell heavily onto the ground, skinning her knee and elbow. The sharp pain of the cuts added to the instant headache she incurred from the impact. She flopped over on her side, and through slitted eyes she saw a football bounce away. The girls were shrieking, alarmed now, and she could vaguely see Margaery jogging back towards her. There was also a ruckus over at the boy's area. She heard Mr Lannister trying to shut them up.

'Oh my god, Sansa! Are you OK?' This was Margaery. From the proximity of her voice, Sansa guessed she had knelt beside her. She felt hair fall over her own face – Margaery was checking her breathing. Sansa wanted to reply, wanted to tell her she felt fine but the throbbing in her head made it difficult to form sentences. She closed her eyes.

'Hey, is she alright?' A new voice. A familiar voice.

'Clegane, get back over there!' Sansa recognised Mr Lannister.

'Not until I know she's alright!' His voice was like thunder. Sansa summoned all of her will and opened her eyes. The glimpse she got before her eyelids closed again was of Sandor Clegane standing over her, the sun behind him creating a vast silhouette against the sky.

'What's going on? Is Sansa OK, Margaery?' Miss Tarth had arrived.

'I think she's been knocked unconscious, Miss Tarth.' Margaery said.

'She's bleeding, too,' Sandor interjected. 'I'm going to kill that little fucking prick.' Sansa heard a quick scuffle, followed by Mr Lannister's roar:

'Clegane! Principal's office, _now_!'

'How about you make sure she's OK before dealing with the problem student?' she heard Sandor snarl.

Sansa heard nothing then for a few seconds, and darkness threatened to take her completely.

'Do something!' Sandor yelled suddenly, and her eyes flew open. He was standing beside her, turned towards Miss Tarth and Mr. Lannister.

'We can't,' said Miss Tarth. 'It's against regulations. Normally I'd get a few of the students to carry her, but the boys don't look like they're in a co-operating mood.'

'Oh, for god's... _Blount_!' Sansa watched Mr Lannister stride away, and closed her eyes again. Her head was throbbing.

'Fucking useless.' She heard Sandor mutter. The next thing she knew, he knelt beside her and was scooping her into his arms. There was a quick swoop that told her he had stood up, cradling her firmly against his chest. She heard a faint giggle, and blushed. Even in her pain she felt embarrassment at the situation.

'Margaery, run to the nurse's office and tell them she's coming,' Miss Tarth ordered. Sansa heard the sound of feet patter swiftly by them and recede into the distance. Sandor started walking.

'I'll dismiss the girls, then follow you.' Tarth called. Sansa's mind was becoming more focused. She stirred just a little, and Sandor stopped walking.

'Try not to move,' he muttered. 'Else I'll drop you.'

'Sandor,' With supreme effort, she opened her eyes. The unscarred side of her face was turned towards her, and Sansa wondered whether he'd picked her up that way on purpose.

'Jesus,' he said, resuming his stride, 'for a second I thought you were knocked out.'

Sansa murmured a no, before stretching her arms to lock around his neck and secure herself more firmly. A muscle beside his mouth twitched. The giggles got louder. Any movement, however slight, caused a stab of pain to go through Sansa's head, so she refrained from looking around. _I wonder where Joffrey is_, she thought.

'Thank you,' she said. Sandor grunted.

'How _precious_!'

Sansa groaned. There he was. The flash of hate she'd felt on the bus returned, this time swelling into a pool of fire in her stomach. _Don't_, she thought. _He's just jealous Sandor got there first_.

'Look at the brave prince carrying the lady away! Or is it the beast dragging away the beauty?' Joffrey sneered from the pitch. 'Shouldn't someone call the police?'

Sandor stopped, and Sansa felt his muscles clench around her. She glanced up to see his face had gone tight with barely-suppressed rage.

'Go on, _dog_!' Joffrey called. The other boys sniggered. A sound that was like nothing human escaped Sandor's mouth. _He does sort of sound like a dog_, Sansa thought.

'Sandor,' she said. 'Don't.'

His mouth twisted in a hateful grimace, and his fingers dug into her side.

'I mean,' she added. 'He's not worth it.'

Sandor took a deep breath and began walking again. His grip relaxed a little. The sounds of Joffrey's catcalls soon fell away.

'I can't believe you're going to the graduation dance with that shit-stain.' he said.

'Please,' she murmured. Her head began to swim again. She hoped they were nearly at the nurse's office.

'He did this to you.'

'What? No, I fell, he didn't push me.' Sansa told him.

He snarled again. 'He got Meryn to kick that fucking football at your head, dimwit. _That _made you fall.'

'Don't call me a dimwit.'

He stopped. Sansa winced, and for a frightening second she thought he meant to throw her onto the ground. Instead he sighed, and shifted his hold on her.

'Don't be afraid of me,' he said.

Sandor began to walk again while Sansa absorbed what he'd said.

'Joffrey wanted to hurt me?' she said, puzzling at the words coming out of her mouth.

'Hurt you, humiliate you,' A slight movement indicated a shrug. 'I can't understand that guy's twisted little head any more than you can.'

They passed into the coolness of the school building. The nurse's office wasn't far from the entrance, and after a few steps Sandor slowed. Gently, taking care not to jostle her any more than necessary, he lowered her onto a chair inside the small room. Sansa's head was feeling much better; even the bright lights of the little office didn't hurt her eyes.

Sandor looked her over quickly, and Sansa was allowed a full view of his scars. It was still a shock to her system, especially since she'd only seen his unhurt side on the way. But this exposure helped her understand what he looked like under the disfigurement. _He would have been quite handsome, __in a way_. Sandor frowned at her appraisal. A strange emotion flickered in his eyes before he turned away.

'She's cut,' he told the nurse. 'And she got whacked on the head. Miss Tarth's on her way.'

'Let's see then, Miss Stark,' the nurse, Melisandre, gently turned Sansa's arm to get a better look at the cut on her elbow. 'Oh, dear.'

Melisandre disinfected Sansa's cuts with an ointment that burned and made Sansa hiss in discomfort. Sandor waited beside her until Miss Tarth showed up, then made to leave.

'Where are you going?' Brienne and Sansa asked, at practically the same time. Sandor scowled.

'The principal's office.' he replied.

'I think you can consider yourself forgiven for cutting class,' said Miss Tarth. 'You were helping another teacher.'

Sandor sneered. 'And you think Joffrey will just forget I was about to punch his lights out? I've already got a week's detention. I may as well go before Ms Lannister starts calling for my blood.' He turned towards the hallway again.

'Sandor,' Sansa called. 'Thank you.'

A faint smile crossed his face. 'Any time, Sansa.'


	7. Chapter 7

**Arya**

She didn't see Gendry for the rest of the day. When the last bell rang, she stood on the steps outside the front entrance looking for him. _And Hot Pie, you're looking for Hot Pie too_, she told herself. The crowd was immense, students flowing past and nearly knocking her down the concrete steps. _Balance, Arya. Balance. Remember what Syrio says_. She placed her feet shoulder-width apart, and braced her hips, centering her gravity to make it harder to fall. Prepared now, she recommenced her search. She spotted Sandor climbing into a bus, tall frame bunched under the low roof. Gendry would give him a lift, but Sandor had always remained tight-lipped over where he lived so Gendry hadn't pushed it. Over by the road she saw Margaery Tyrell climbing into her brother's waiting car. The ex-principal's younger brother was sitting shotgun. The man lurking in the pick-up on the opposite side of the street was Mr. Frey, collecting his many children from school. As Arya watched, the pick-up bed rapidly filled up with boys and girls of varying ages. Her mother had warned her to stay away from the Freys. Arya had agreed with her. Usually, any warning from Catelyn was considered something of an encouragement, but not when it came to the Freys.

_There!_ She spotted Gendry and Hot Pie over at the student parking area, climbing into the Nova. As quick as she could, Arya threaded her way through the diminishing crowd towards them. _They'll wait for me_.

As she cleared the crowd beside the parking area, however, the Nova's engine rumbled to a start and it drove away. _Gendry_ drove it away. For a second Arya stopped, staring slack-jawed at the back of the car as it shrank away. Her stomach clenched as if it had received a punch. Then Arya's mouth snapped closed. _He's not doing this to _me. For a car, the way to the exit was basic enough, but it did necessitate a few turns. Arya could take a more direct route across the intervening four lanes. Through the rear window of a parked car, she saw the Nova drive past the parked cars towards the exit, and she started running. She narrowly avoided getting clipped by a car going down the first lane she ran across, so as she threaded her way through the parked cars Arya cast a quick eye to the left and right of the next road. The nearest car was far enough away, so she sped up. She reached the final lane just as the Nova was turning. She waited at the edge of the parked cars until they had nearly drove by, and then stepped out in front of the car. Gendry slammed on the brakes, but Arya doubted much damage could be done since he wasn't going very fast in the first place. There was a pause, and then the driver door opened. Gendry appeared, mouth open to exclaim, but Arya got there first.

'What the hell, Gendry?' she shouted. Gendry closed his mouth, then opened it again.

'I didn't think you were coming.' he said.

'What, was I going to fly home?'

He grimaced. 'I thought maybe Ned Dayne'd give you a lift home.'

Arya felt a strange, fizzing feeling skitter down her spine. So she agreed to go to the dance with Dayne, and suddenly Gendry wasn't her friend anymore? Sansa would break, would go to Gendry and tell him she'd turn Dayne down if only Gendry would remain her friend, but Arya was made of harder stuff. Her face darkened with anger, and she stuck her middle finger out at him.

'Go fuck yourself, Gendry!' she yelled. She lowered her arm, then turned on her heel and walked away before Gendry could recover. She trotted through the parked cars towards the school bus. _Please don't leave, please don't leave_. Just as she stepped onto the pavement the bus doors _swoosh_ed shut, and the bus itself pulled away.

'Oh for GOD'S SAKE!' Arya roared, bunching her hands into fists. _This isn't fair this isn't fa-_

'Arya, are you OK?'

She turned. Edric Dayne was standing half in, half out of his own car, one hand on top of the open door. Arya scowled.

'I missed my bus.' she said. Her mouth twisted into a petulant frown. 'And Gendry drove off on me.'

Dayne raised his eyebrows. 'Really? I thought you and he were friends.'

'I thought that too.'

'Would you like a lift?'

Arya sighed. 'Yes please.' _This boy thing isn't as easy as I'd thought it would be_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Catelyn**

Catelyn hung up the phone, tight-lipped with anger. Jon was coming over for dinner. _At least Ned's given me advance notice that he'll be coming, this time_, she laughed bitterly.

Hers and Ned's marriage had been something of a shotgun wedding, Catelyn would admit that freely, but the appearance of his first, illegitimate son had rankled with her. Jon was older than Robb by about a year, and Ned had sworn blind he had no more contact with the mother beyond paying child support. That had stopped when Jon turned one, and Ned brought Jon to the Stark house stating that his mother could no longer take care of him.

Jon himself then lived with the Starks until he turned fourteen, and Catelyn had never warmed to him. At fourteen, Ned's brother Benjen had taken Jon under his wing. _Next it'll be Lyanna's turn_, Catelyn sniffed to herself. Lyanna did dote on Jon, it was true, sometimes to the point of ignoring her other nieces and nephews, but she was hardly a good role model. She was rarely in the country. Ned refused to discuss her. If ever Catelyn offered an unfavourable opinion of Lyanna to him, he merely said 'She is my blood.' and presumed that would be the end of it. It was the same reaction he had with Jon.

Jon and Robb, being of a same age, became thick as thieves, and he had become close to Arya, Bran and Rickon too. His relationship with Sansa was more tenuous – Sansa always referred to him as her half-brother in a way the others didn't – but there was no denying the resemblance. It had often occurred to Catelyn that that was what she resented most; of all of Ned's children, Jon and Arya were the two who had the Stark features, with dark hair and grey eyes. The others took after Catelyn. _Would it help if Jon resembled his _mother_? _Catelyn asked herself. _If he resembled this other woman that Ned loved just as much, if not more, than you?_

For some reason, Ned had never revealed the name of Jon's mother, and Catelyn wondered if that was just as well. His visits were infrequent, which was something Catelyn thanked her lucky stars for. According to Sansa, he had his own apartment in the inner suburbs with his girlfriend, and had spare rooms ready if his siblings ever wanted to visit. This, Catelyn allowed grudgingly. _Better they go to him than he come to us_.

There was a knock at the front door. Catelyn glanced at the clock. _The girls won't be home yet_. Robb was in the back garden training the pups. She left the study and went to the vestibule, taking a quick look through the peephole at the person on the other side of the door. It was Theon. She sighed, and opened the door.

'Hey Catelyn,' Theon said. 'Is Robb in?'

'Hello Theon,' she said. 'How are you?'

'Can't complain, can't complain. You?'

'I'm not too bad. Robb's in the garden.'

As Theon slouched past her, Catelyn shook her head. That was another mouth to feed for dinner. Theon was Robb's best friend, and had spent as much time as humanly possible at the Stark house when they were growing up. Catelyn suspected his homelife wasn't very happy. The boy was hard to love, but grew on you. Like mould. A chorus of yipping floated in from the garden.

She spent the next ten minutes flicking through recipe books, trying to decide on a meal that would feed all nine of them. Eventually she picked chilli con carne, and got to measuring out nine portions of rice. She added another portion, just to be safe. Catelyn took meat out of the freezer and put it in the microwave to defrost when the door opened.

'Hey Mam,' Sansa said, entering the kitchen. She slung her bag onto one chair, and slumped into another. Catelyn noticed a plaster on her knee, but didn't mention it.

'Hello sweetheart,' she said. She rummaged in the fridge for some peppers. 'How was school?'

'Not bad.' Sansa worried her lip with her teeth for a minute, fingers tracing an invisible patter on the tabletop. 'Joffrey asked me to go to the graduation dance with him.'

'Really?' Catelyn stood up, and looked at her eldest daughter. 'What did you say?' She knew Sansa was desperate to go to the dance, but if she were truly happy about the invitation Catelyn would have to pry her off the ceiling. Her reticience was screaming at Catelyn's maternal impulses.

'I said yes,' Sansa said. 'But...'

'But what? What's wrong?'

'Nothing! But there's this other boy...'

Little by little, Catelyn enticed it out of her. This Sandor boy had nearly come to blows with Joffrey over her, Sansa said, and Joffrey had revealed a very unkind side of his personality. Sansa wasn't sure if going with Joffrey would be the right thing to do.

Catelyn went to her daughter and embraced her. Sansa wasn't crying yet, but she sensed tears weren't far away.

'Maybe you shouldn't go to the dance with him, Sansa,' she said. 'Perhaps you should wait until it's your graduation dance.' She let her go, and went back to chopping vegetables.

'But what if no-one asks me to my own dance?' Sansa pouted. 'This might be my only chance.'

'Hardly,' Catelyn scoffed. 'You are my beautiful summer-born child, and any boy with half an eye would bend over backwards to bring you to the dance.'

Sansa was quiet for a moment.

'Sandor only has half a face.' she said quietly. 'I mean, he has such terrible burns on his face, he looks almost a monster.'

'Don't be unkind, Sansa.'

Sansa sniffed. 'I wasn't trying to be,' she said. 'He's not a monster, though. He's really quite kind, and gentle. He's my friend, I think.'

Catelyn pursed her lips. She didn't think it was wise, Sansa being friends with a boy who was clearly so violent.

'What happened to your knee?'

Sansa was silent for a few seconds, and alarm bells started ringing in Catelyn's head. It was definitely connected to the whole Joffrey business. Maybe even this Sandor was responsible.

'I fell in P.E.,' Sansa stood up. 'I'm going to do my homework.' she said, taking up her bag and leaving the kitchen. Catelyn frowned. She had seen Joffrey fleetingly once when she and Sansa were out shopping. While she could see what attracted Sansa, Sansa who loved Disney movies and stories about princesses in enchanted castles, Catelyn had thought there was something funny about the boy. There was a cruel look to his face.

A car coasted down the avenue and slid to a halt outside the Stark house. Catelyn watched her youngest daughter emerge from it, and frowned as a tall, fair-haired boy got out of the driver's side. _Where's Gendry?_ She thought. The two of them were talking, not as animatedly as Arya and Gendry had that morning, but obviously a friendly enough conversation. Arya led him around the side of the house, where she could no doubt hear her brother playing with the dogs. The boy seemed slightly more polished than Gendry. Maybe Arya was turning her attentions towards him.

Catelyn sighed, and slipped little pieces of chopped onion into a sizzling pan. _Thank God I put more rice on_, she thought.


	9. Chapter 9

**Theon**

Robb was kneeling on the patio in the back garden, trying to teach the puppies how to sit while Theon observed from a deck chair. Robb's task was a difficult enough one, Theon knew, if there was only one pup to train, never mind if there were five of them. The pups' mother lay in the sunshine, disregarding all her brood's yips for attention.

'Sit. _Sit_.' Robb said patiently, patting each pup on the rump. Theon shook his head. It was a stupid idea. When one pup sat, the others would jump over it to lick Robb's face.

'Why are you doing this as a group, Stark?' he said. He shrugged out of his jacket, and reclined in his chair. 'Separating them would be a better idea. Train them separately.'

'No.' Robb said. 'Sit_ down_, Grey Wind.' A smile flickered across his face as the pup in question licked his hand. The little grey pup was Robb's favourite.

'At least hit them a little. They'll only do what you want when the alternative is pain.'

Robb stared at Theon, his face like thunder.

'Would you hit a baby for crying? Maybe that's how they do it in the Greyjoy house, but not in this one. You of all people should know that. They're a pack. They have to experience things as a pack. And it's not a shaking, fearful pack of dogs I need. A dog who's afraid of its master is a poor dog.'

Theon shrugged. For the love he bore Robb he didn't push the subject. The man was like a brother to him, but they disagreed on many things.

'I'll believe it when I see it, Stark,' he said. Robb smirked.

'You will, Greyjoy.'

The door connecting the front and back gardens creaked, and the pups flooded over towards the sound, yipping and barking their shrill barks as they went. Robb cocked an eyebrow at Theon, as if to say _See what I mean?_. Theon pulled a face, and turned his attention back to the door. It was Arya and one of her friends. As soon as she passed the doorframe Arya fell to the ground and started yipping with the dogs, rolling over to let them clamber over her.

'That's another thing I won't do,' Robb told Theon. 'Their mother's a lazy bitch, so I have to be their alpha. Which means no playing like that. Arya's part of their pack, but I'm in control of it.'

Theon nodded as if he understood. He waved his hand in a 'whatever' gesture.

'Hey Arya,' he said to the pup-covered girl on the ground.

'Theon,' she replied. _She must be in a good mood_, Theon thought. Normally, all he got was a grunt.

A boy, younger than Theon but older than Arya, followed her through the doorway. He walked slowly, seemingly hesitant to step into the yard with the dogs. Theon grinned at Robb. Robb rolled his eyes.

'Hello there!' Theon called, rising from the chair smoothly. In three paces he had closed the distance between them, and grabbed the boy's hand in two of his own. 'Pleased to meet you, I'm Theon. You must be Arya's boyfriend.'

'Theon!' Arya shouted from the ground. The pups went into a chorus of yelps at her raised voice.

The boy turned a spluttering shade of pink, which was what Theon had hoped for.

'Theon,' Robb said, smiling. 'Don't scare the boy. Hi, I'm Robb.' Robb shunted Theon aside not-too-gently, and took the boy's hand.

'Edric Dayne,' the boy said. 'Ned.'

'Ned, lovely to meet you. Are you staying for dinner?'

'Oh, I'd better not, I should –'

'You should stay,' Arya jumped up. 'Mam always cooks too much.'

Theon punched her arm lightly, and winked grotequely. Arya looked at him with contempt.

'You shouldn't stay, Greyjoy.' she added.

Theon lifted a hand and placed it over his heart.

'My days! Young Miss Stark expresses her distaste for me! However will I – oh I don't care.' He gave Arya a look of her own. She snorted, and turned back to Ned.

'Yeah, you should stay. It'll take you ages to get to Starfall, your dinner there will go cold by the time you get back.'

'Starfall!' Theon exclaimed. 'I'm not sure if our plebeian food will be quite good enough for a Starfall resident.'

'That was a big word for you, Theon,' Arya spat. 'Did you rob a teacher this week?'

He just smiled. Robb made a little -ahem!- noise in the back of his throat, and stepped between them.

'Stay for dinner, Ned,' he said to the boy. 'My pain sister is right; Mam always makes too much. Come on, Theon, let's go to the store.' With that, he entered the house.

Theon stayed for a few seconds and leered at Arya before following. Robb had gone upstairs to get his car keys, so he loitered in the kitchen watching Catelyn cook for a few seconds. He never remembered his own mother cooking.

'Smells nice, Catelyn,' he said. 'Chilli?'

'Yes. Your favourite, wasn't it?'

Theon nodded. 'Yeah.'

'Theon! Let's go!' Robb didn't re-enter the kitchen. Theon heard the front door open, then went to the hall. Before he left the kitchen, he turned back.

'Do you want anything from the store, Catelyn?' he asked.

'Oh no, thank you Theon. And don't be long. This should be ready in about twenty minutes.' Catleyn smiled at him before turning back to the food.


	10. Chapter 10

**Jon**

'Don't be so worried,' Ygritte chided. They were in the living room of their apartment. Jon paced over and back across the room almost lazily.

'I can't help it,' Jon said. 'You don't know how she makes me feel.'

'Should I be jealous?'

Jon laughed, before leaning down and stealing a quick kiss from her. She smiled through the kiss, then batted him away impatiently.

'Don't start a fight you can't finish, Jon Snow,' she said. 'You know what'll happen if we keep kissing.'

'I know. Remember when we nearly missed our flight to Iceland?'

'The key word there,' she said, 'is nearly.'

He smiled. He was meant to be at the Stark house in half an hour. It was a twenty minute journey, but he knew Ygritte was right. Jon watched her beautiful fiery hair shine in the evening sunlight, and sighed.

'I'd best be going,' he said. 'Catelyn won't be pleased if I'm late.'

'She won't be pleased whatever you do.' Ygritte shrugged, and stretched out on the sofa.

'Aye, true enough. But still.'

She nodded, and grinned. Her arms stretched towards him, and taking his hands in her own Ygritte placed them on either side of her face. She turned and placed a swift kiss in the centre of each palm.

'See you later, Jon.'

For a second Jon was tempted to cancel on the Starks, to suddenly come down with a cold and spend the rest of the night with Ygritte. The thought was followed by an image of Ned Stark's disappointed face, eyebrows furrowed at the idea of putting oneself before one's family. Inwardly, Jon rolled his eyes, and kissed Ygritte once more. She tolerated it for a few seconds before pulling away.

'Go!' She waved her arms at him. 'Go and be sociable with your family.'

'I will. See you later.'


End file.
